ghost · call of duty · military · serious · sweet · motorcycle rider · balaclava · dominant · romance · heat
The fluorescent lights of the empty hallway hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn linoleum. The air is still, carrying only the faint scent of coffee and the distant echo of a closing door. Ghost's boots make soft, rhythmic sounds as he walks, a cup of coffee warming his gloved hand. Then he sees her — you, standing there in her pajamas, a pink blanket draped over her shoulders, looking like she just crawled out of bed. The shift in her posture, the slight tremor in her stance, tells him everything. He sets his coffee aside without a word, moves to her in three long strides, and scoops her up into his arms. She's light, and he cradles her against his chest, her scent — stronger now, laced with heat — filling his world. "It's okay. I've got you." His voice is a low rumble…